Fools Rush In
by Scallisaac
Summary: Outside her job at the CCPN, Iris is a secret agent, and she's just been assigned her first solo mission: to take down Central City's notorious vigilante, the Flash. She's got it all planned out; to make him fall for her, gain his trust, and take him down. But, as always, things don't go exactly according to plan. She certainly was never supposed to fall in love in the process.
1. Target Acquired

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I don't read comics and don't actually have any idea how A.R.G.U.S. works or what it's like or what Amanda Waller is really like either other than some very limited and probably incorrect information from Arrow so...just keep that in mind and try to suspend your imagination for a little bit I guess? Basically I apologize if I'm totally off the mark but I kind of just did my own thing with it anyway_

 _ **More Disclaimers:**_ _So I'm super awful with deadlines and I had a lot more planned for this story that I ended up not having time to include; if it feels rushed that's probably because it really, really is, so I apologize for that in advance...Still, I hope you enjoy it at least a little!_

xXx

Working all day, researching and writing and putting things together for one article or the next, was exhausting. The kind of exhausting that would leave anyone looking forward to getting home, slipping into their pajamas, curling up on the couch to watch TV before retiring to a warm, inviting bed, maybe a nice, hot shower thrown in there somewhere. Iris would probably feel the same, if she was actually going home, or ever really slept. But as it stood, her day was really only just beginning.

"Linda, I'm heading out," she said, drumming her fingers against her friend's desk to get her attention. "We still on for breakfast tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah, aren't we always?" Linda nodded, taking the pen out of her mouth and tucking it behind her ear. She propped her head up with her elbow against her desk, looking up at Iris with a determined glint in her eye. "I'm going out tonight, by the way. That karaoke bar on Fifth Street. Should be fun. I'll probably meet lots of new people, and all."

Iris kept her face impassive, knowing exactly what Linda was getting at. This was a common routine between the two of them, these days. "Sounds great, Linda. Have fun."

 _"Iris,_ " Linda heaved a long-suffering sigh, pushing herself away from her desk to take Iris's hands in her own. "Come on. Come with me, please? It'll be a good time, really. And you _never_ go out anymore."

" _Linda_ ," Iris matched her exasperated tone, "we've been over this already. I'm tired. I just don't feel up to it, okay? I'm just...not much of a going out person anymore."

"Oh, I beg to differ, miss social butterfly," Linda huffed in irritation, as per usual not buying the act. "Are you forgetting that we roomed together for three years in college? I know you, Iris, and somehow I find that really hard to believe."

"People are capable of change, you know."

"Yeah, I know, I'm not denying that. I mean, I know I probably have. But this is different. Because whenever I mention it, I can tell that you still _want_ to. You get that look in your eye like you're regretting missing out on something, the same one you always used to get. You might have changed, but you haven't changed that much."

 _If only you knew,_ Iris thought grimly. "Just drop it, Linda. Please."

"But—"

"Linda..." She warned. Linda rolled her eyes and gave Iris's arm a playful shove.

"Fine, whatever. Go home and go to sleep, be boring. It's just...I'm _worried_ about you."

Iris felt a twinge of guilt at the concern in her friend's eyes. It was always times like these where lying to Linda, to her father, to everyone she cared about, were the hardest. And it was also times like these where she was so close to telling them, to thinking _screw it all_ , and blowing her cover, and yet...she couldn't. She wouldn't, and ultimately she didn't want to, no matter how hard or complicated it made things.

"I'm fine, really," she forced a laugh. "Just tired. And boring, apparently. Maybe I'm just getting too old."

"You're _twenty-five_ , Iris," Linda scoffed, raising an eyebrow at her, giving her a look that was equal parts amusement and irritated disbelief. "But alright, fine. If you say so. I'll see you tomorrow morning, then. And I'll probably have lots of ridiculously scandalous things to tell you about—if your poor little old heart can handle it, that is."

Iris's lips quirked up into a smile. _Classic Linda._ Really, she'd be lying to herself if she tried to claim she didn't miss being a part of those scandalous things, too—just like the good old days. Not that these days were bad, just not quite as…simple.

"I think I'll live. There's really nothing you can tell me that could beat summer of our junior year at CCU. I've heard it all. Actually, I've _seen_ it all, thanks to you. And Becky."

"No," Linda corrected her. "You've _done_ it all."

"Okay, listen, I was—"

"Save it," Linda waved her off, laughter in her eyes. "Go home. Get your beauty sleep, or whatever, and I'll try to have enough fun for the both of us."

Iris shook her head fondly, pulling on her favorite green coat. "Bye, Linda. Be _safe_."

"Of course; you know I always am," she winked at her, giving a jaunty little wave as Iris made her way out the door. "Night, grandma."

Iris laughed and discreetly gave Linda the finger, careful to shield it from the prying eyes of her other co-workers, before finally pulling the door to CCPN headquarters closed behind her. Half past 8:00, her phone read, and she tucked it back into her coat pocket with a sigh.

Central City bustled around her: cars sped past, people hurried by this way or that, and the night was rich and teeming with life. People going out, people going home, people getting ready for a night of fun, or else a night of relaxation. Not for her, she thought, as she climbed into her car and put her keys in the ignition. No—for her, it was back to work.

It was strange, calling it that, but that's really what it was, wasn't it? Her second job, her second _life_ , the one that no one, save for her fellow agents, knew a thing about. It was unconventional work, sure, but it was still work. More than that, it was dangerous. It was spontaneous, it was ever-changing, it was important. It was exactly the kind of thing her dad had tried to keep her out of when he hadn't let her join the police force and attend the academy, when she'd expressed the desire to follow in his footsteps. Which had been why she'd accepted Amanda Waller's offer to begin with: partly out of spite, sure, but it hadn't been the reason she'd stayed.

Because as much as she loved journalism, as much as she valued her job at CCPN, this was her calling. This was where she was meant to be. And so even though it hurt to hide this part of herself from her friends, from her family, at the end of the day, knowing she was making a difference, living in the thrill of her work, was worth it.

She parked her car in a familiar parking lot, one that was mostly empty, this time of night. All the while, she was constantly looking over her shoulder, constantly checking to make sure she wasn't being followed. She had learned her lesson the hard way with that, when she'd first joined ARGUS, back in her rookie days. Now, of course, she knew better.

The cool thing about working for a secret, underground organization, Iris found, as she carefully scaled the side of the building, was that the location was actually hidden: secret, and wouldn't you know it—underground. There was more than one location, obviously, but the entrance to Central City's headquarters that she used was, coincidentally, on top of the building of her old workplace. Well, her _old_ old workplace. Before her job at CCPN, after college and somewhere in the middle of grad school, around the time that she'd been approached by the woman who would change her life forever, she'd worked part-time at Jitters.

It felt like a lifetime ago she'd been just a struggling student, living at home with her dad and serving coffee, whipping up frappuccinos and cappuccinos and ending her days smelling of coffee beans and cronuts. And here she was now, on Jitter's rooftop, looking over her shoulder to make sure she was alone before dropping her hand discreetly into the generic potted plant to her left and locating the hidden button to grant her entrance. She watched as the plant seemed to move on its own accord, as the ground underneath it opened up in a small person-sized hole, one that she carefully climbed into, the lights inside the glass tube flickering on at her presence.

She punched in the code of the week into the little control panel imbedded in the glass and then looked straight up, marveling at the night sky above her. This would never get old, really—the stars winking at her and the air cool and crisp, the soft glow of moonlight against her skin. As always she stood there, gazing up at the moon, until the ground overhead closed up again, the ceiling sliding shut and swallowing the outside world with it, the potted plant returning discreetly to its post as though it had never moved.

It was strange, she reflected, the things she'd gotten used to. Like traveling through the wall and then through the ground to reach hear destination was just a part of her daily routine, and no longer even phased her. She leaned against the glass as she felt it slide into motion, letting her eyes slip shut as it carried her swiftly through a channel she'd long since memorized. Left, right, left, left again, and—there.

The doors to the glass pod slid open, and she stepped out into the corridor, in front of a large, formidable metal door. She stood patiently in front of the scanner, allowing it to get a reading on her, until that familiar, mechanical voice filled the chamber, and the door slid open to grant her access. "Good evening, Agent West."

She opened her mouth to respond with her usual "Hello"—a habit born out of a childhood being taught good manners, really, since she knew the machine didn't actually care whether she responded or not (although it did know how to hold a simple small-talk conversation)—but the greeting died on her lips as her gaze landed on a figure down towards the end of the corridor, standing close to the entrance of the main cortex, and slightly obscured by all the people shuffling by.

"Felicity?" Iris squinted, noticing the tell-tale blonde ponytail, trying to get a better look before making any concrete assumptions. Felicity wasn't the only skinny blonde girl in the world, after all, and she'd admittedly made this mistake before, tackling the wrong person to the ground in one particularly memorable, mortifying occasion a little while back. (Poor Patty Spivot, really—it had been the girl's first day on the job, and she'd ended up with an armful of a total stranger. That couldn't have been fun). Wanting to be sure, Iris took a few steps forward, staring hard at the woman's back. Suddenly, the woman turned her head to the side, just enough so that Iris could make out her profile, the distinctive pink frames of her glasses. Yep, Iris thought with a smile, it was her alright.

"Felicity!" she all but squealed, running up and throwing her arms around her from behind, squeezing her so tight she nearly lifted her off the ground with all her 5'4" glory. In all her enthusiasm, she nearly knocked Felicity's glasses right off her face.

"Good to see you too, Iris," Felicity laughed a little breathlessly at having the wind knocked right out of her. When Iris pulled back and Felicity turned around to face her, her smile was wide, expression bright.

"When did you get in?" Iris grinned, unable to keep the smile off her face. God, she'd missed her. "I thought you were still working that mission in Starling!"

"I was, but we caught the guy. Courtesy of the Arrow—or with his help, at least," she smirked. "Having him on our side is definitely a plus."

" _And_ —" came a voice from behind Iris. She whipped around to find Laurel walking towards them, eyes all for Felicity, "—it gives her more time to spend with her girlfriend, which of course is the biggest plus of all."

"Very true," Felicity's grin widened, her eyes going soft, as Laurel slipped an arm around her waist and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Iris groaned at the gesture, feigning annoyance. In reality, it was great seeing her friends so happy, looking so whole, especially after everything Laurel had been through since she'd known her. With Tommy, and then her sister…but still. "Do you guys have to be so disgustingly cute right in front of me? Rub it in the perpetually single girl's face, why don't you."

"Sorry," Laurel laughed, stepping away from Felicity's side. "But you know you're only really single by choice, Iris. You've got people falling at your feet, like, all the time. Besides, for all intents and purposes, you're technically not going to be anymore, if all goes according to plan. Well, you'll be _pretending_ not to be single, more like. I still vote that it counts."

Iris frowned, looking back and forth between Laurel and Felicity in bemusement, taking in their matching grins. "Um. What are you talking about?"

"You know, because of…because of the—" Laurel snapped her mouth shut as she took in the sheer confusion in Iris's expression. She gave her a searching look, but it was clear she wasn't catching on. "You didn't...you really don't know? About the mission Waller selected you for?"

"No," Iris blinked, letting that sink in. _Mission?_ That was news. "Waller selected _me_ for a mission?"

"Yeah, it's a pretty big deal," Felicity cut in. Her face suddenly went pale, her eyes going wide, as something seemed to occur to her. "Which if she hasn't told you yet, we probably shouldn't be talking about right now. Oh God. Laurel, were we not supposed to talk about it yet? Shit, what if—"

"Relax, Felicity," Iris held up a hand to calm her down. "Waller sent me a message earlier, while I was still at Picture News, calling me down to her office. Told me she did have something important to tell me. Whatever it is you're talking about, that's probably it."

Laurel shared a look with Felicity and opened her mouth, about to say something, but before she could get out another word their little group meeting was abruptly interrupted.

"Agent West," Patty, still a relatively new addition to their team, called out, approaching them with purposeful strides. "Mrs. Waller would like to speak with you. Immediately, that is. She sent me down to get you, says it's urgent."

 _Speak of the devil_ , Iris thought, wondering not for the first time if Waller had some kind of sixth-sense as to everything the people around her talked about. Or maybe she just had them all bugged, which…she honestly wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, either. It could just be that Patty had strangely perfect and weirdly coincidental timing, and after all, Iris had been on her way to Waller's office anyway, having gotten her message from earlier, but to show up right as they'd been talking about it? Well, it didn't matter, she supposed, giving Laurel and Felicity a look that said _I told you so_ before smiling gratefully at Patty and bidding them all goodbye. When Amanda Waller said that something was urgent, you did not keep her waiting.

Iris resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she turned the corner and made her way down a dark, narrow hallway that people seldom went down unless called for. Leave it to Waller, really, to make sure her office was in as formidable a place as possible, she thought, pressing her thumb against the pad on the wall and waiting for it to scan, the wall sliding open as it processed her fingerprint and gave her access to yet another dark, intimidating corridor. She was sure that the woman must do this on purpose—although why she bothered, really, was a mystery to Iris. People were already afraid of her enough as it was. Which, unfortunately, although she was loath to admit it, included her.

She took a deep, shaky breath before stopping in front of a large wooden door, the dim light filtering through the bottom and casting shadows at her feet only heightening her unease. Curling her fingers into a fist and wrapping her knuckles gently on the door, she tensed, a thrill of fear and anticipation shooting up her spine at the clipped _"Come in"_ she heard from inside.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" Iris kept her expression neutral as she walked through the door, trying hard not to seem too out of place as she hovered uncertainly in the doorway, although on the inside she was crawling with nerves.

"Agent West. Please, have a seat. And close the door behind you." Without looking up from what she was writing, Waller gestured to the lone chair situated in front of her desk. Iris followed her orders, closing the door with a soft click and making her way over to the seat on somewhat shaky legs, feeling an ominous sense of foreboding as she sat down. Her chest felt tight as she contemplated what exactly it was she'd been called in here for, and even with what Felicity and Laurel had told her, sitting here, feeling like a criminal awaiting trial, it was hard to believe that the reasons for her being here could be anything positive.

Finally, after what felt like ages of sitting in tense, uncomfortable silence, waiting with baited breath and increasingly frayed nerves for Waller to speak, she put down her pen and looked at Iris with interest, folding her hands on her desk before her.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you in here, Agent."

Iris merely nodded, mouth too dry to form a proper response. She felt on edge, more nervous than she'd been in a while. Her hands trembled slightly and she balled them into fists, hiding them behind her back, determined not to show it.

"As I'm sure you know, since the unfortunate explosion and resulting damage of S.T.A.R. Lab's particle accelerator, ARGUS has been keeping tabs on the seemingly unexplainable events that have been occurring in its wake. These people with strange and impossible abilities, including, of course, Central City's very own vigilante—more commonly known as The Flash."

"The Flash?" Her eyebrows shot up, her mouth falling open a bit in shock and confusion. This hadn't been the kind of conversation she'd been expecting, not at all, and really, the _Flash—?_ What did that have to do with anything?

"Yes, the Flash. The red streak that's been running around stopping crimes all over the city. He's been all over the news; I'm sure you've heard of him. Especially considering what you do."

"Oh, no, I've heard of him. I just…what does The Flash have to do with me?" Almost as an afterthought, she added, genuinely curious, "And how do you know he…it's…a man?"

"Well, Agent West, that's precisely where you come in." Waller leaned back in her chair, regarding Iris with sharp eyes, like she was carefully cataloguing her reaction. Iris swallowed past the lump in her throat and tried to ask how, but her instead she just came up empty, staring at a point just past Waller's head and waiting with baited breath for her to go on. "You see, we know who the Flash is. We know his identity, where he works, his past, his history, his family, his friends. What we don't know, and what I need you to find out, are his weaknesses. How to take him down, bring him to us, once and for all."

"Take him down?" Iris squeaked, her eyes going wide in disbelief. She supposed now wouldn't be the time to mention that she'd very nearly started a blog detailing the Flash's pursuits around the city. Although she supposed Waller must already know that she was sort of the go-to journalist when it came to news reports regarding the impossible in Central City. "But _why_? I thought the Flash was…good. You know, a hero, even, and—"

"The news," a muscle was working in Waller's jaw, her eyes steely with anger, "can be misleading, Agent West. We have ample reason to believe that the Flash, no matter how helpful or heroic he appears to be to the public, is dangerous. What he can do…that kind of power, those abilities, cannot be trusted in the hands of one man. We also have sources that suggest his involvement in the murder of Mason Bridge—"

"My _mentor_? The Mason Bridge who is supposedly on vacation in Brazil? Who I just spoke with _last week?_ "

"The very same. Mason Bridge's disappearance was no accident—he was killed, and we have recovered evidence to show that whatever killed him had to have been able to move at impossible speeds. The same goes for the murders at Mercury Labs a few months ago. All of the victims were killed by the force from a high-speed collision, one that could only be the work of someone—"

"—with super speed," Iris finished the sentence for her, her thoughts a jumbled mess, slowly processing all of the information Waller was throwing at her. It just didn't make _sense_. The Flash had brought hope to the city, had seemed like such a beacon of light for so many. People believed in him— _she_ believed in him. She'd read articles about some of the amazing things that he'd done, the people that he'd helped. Hell, she'd _written_ some of those articles. Hearing this was…unsettling. Because a part of her couldn't…well, it wasn't even that she didn't want to believe it. It was that she was genuinely having a hard time wrapping her head around the possibility.

It took her a moment to realize the heavy silence that had fallen between them, to notice that Waller was watching her: cool, calculating, and curious. Another more pressing concern suddenly occurred to her, and it slipped off her tongue before she could stop it.

"Why _me_?"

Waller didn't even bat an eyelash, and dully Iris wondered whether the woman ever even blinked. It seemed to her that she'd been staring at her with that same, probing look for some time now. "In addition to Agent Lance," Waller began, drumming her fingers against her desk, her nails making an ominous clicking noise, "you are one of our finest agents, and one of the only people who I trust to handle such a sensitive—such an _important_ mission. Lance will be otherwise occupied with a case she's been assigned to take care of in Starling regarding the League of Assassins, working alongside her sister, and you are my next top choice. So. Tell me honestly, Agent: do you think you can handle this assignment?"

"I— _Yes_. Yes, I can. I will." Iris said firmly, sounding far more sure than she felt, before she could even think of changing her mind. It was unheard of to say no to Waller, anyway, even if being saddled with such a huge responsibility was incredibly nerve-wracking. It wasn't really a matter of whether or not she thought she could do it or not; if Waller wanted her to, she _would_ do it. Besides, a part of her felt a thrill of excitement at the fact that she was being selected for something like this, out of everyone she worked with, people who had been here for years and years and had far more experience under their belt than she did. It was oddly flattering, as much as it was terrifying. And confusing. "I mean, of course, ma'am. I'd be honored. And I am more than up for the challenge."

"Excellent, Agent West." Waller flashed her one of her rare smiles, and Iris tried not to let her shock show in her expression. She'd only heard about it in conversation and rumors—she really hadn't been sure it even existed. And yet here she was, smiling at Iris in approval, in a way that was vaguely threatening and didn't really reach her eyes but that was a smile, nonetheless. "That's what I was hoping, and just the kind of thing I like to hear. Now, you'll be given an earpiece to connect you with Ms. Smoak that you are to wear when engaging with the Flash, and you are to pass along any relevant information you uncover in the course of your engagement with him, especially anything that might help us catch him. It is also imperative that he trust you—this way, you can lure him into a false sense of security, and when he's least expecting it, we'll set a trap, and you will be instrumental in getting him to walk right into it. I've always believed that the quickest way to exposing someone is through the heart. Love makes people weak. Vulnerable. Reckless, even, and far more likely to trust. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Iris nodded, thinking back to her conversation with Laurel and Felicity. She bit her lip in thought. "Ma'am…you said you knew who he was? What's his name? Should I read up about him, or—"

"His name is Bartholomew Allen, although he goes by Barry, and he works as the head of the Central City Police Department's CSI Division." Waller slid a thick file across the desk towards Iris, and gestured to it expectantly. Iris dutifully picked it up, opening the file in her lap and staring down at a man who couldn't be any older than her, with a young-looking face and an easy smile that made something in her chest tighten. It was hard to believe that such an ordinary looking guy, such a _young_ guy, and with those boyish and soft features, could be capable of so much. Try as she might, she just couldn't picture him in that suit, zipping around the city, with fucking _superpowers_.

But then she flipped the page, and attached to a document detailing his previous medical history there was a grainy photo of him that Iris suspected must've been pulled from some security camera, probably after some bank robbery he'd stopped. Although the picture was blurry it was just clear enough to make out that it was definitely him. Actually in the suit. Which should've been all she needed to accept it, but she was still finding it hard to wrap her head around the concept. The words on the pages blurred in Iris's vision, and she stared at them in vain, her mind reeling and thoughts spinning too wildly to really focus.

"All the information we have on Mr. Allen is in that folder." Waller's voice brought her back to reality, and she looked up from the file, a dull ache settling in between her temples. "As you'll notice, there are a lot of gaps that need filling, and again, that's where you come in. Find out as much as you can about his abilities—how he got them, where his power comes from, and most importantly, what his limitations are. I want you to study this information, to know your target, before engaging. You will check back with me regularly to track your progress, and when you manage a breakthrough, we will begin the next step. That's all for now, Agent West. Good luck."

Waller gave her the barest hint of a smile again, although it was more intimidating than comforting—almost as though she was silently communicating ' _you're going to need it'_ —and Iris understood herself to be dismissed. Once out of sight of Waller's office, as soon as she'd rounded the corner away from that long, dark corridor, she slumped against the wall, the file clutched tight in her hand, her heart racing like she'd just run a marathon. She took a deep breath to steady herself, her mind still reeling, and set off again to find Laurel and Felicity.

xXx

It was great, really, that Felicity and Laurel weren't only fellow agents but also close friends, because it made nights like these, nights that would probably otherwise be dull and tedious, genuinely enjoyable. They'd spent the better part of the evening meticulously poring over the information in the file that Waller had given her, cataloguing and memorizing and figuring out where and how Iris should go about starting this whole thing. And then once they'd finished with that, they'd all curled up together on the couch to watch cheap romantic comedies and forget about work for a bit.

"Alright, Felicity," Iris set her glass of wine to the side, pausing the movie they were watching. She ignored the indignant ' _hey!_ ' that action produced and turned to Felicity with a serious expression on her face. "You gotta help me out here. You're good at this kind of thing. What's my meet-cute gonna be?"

Felicity scrunched up her nose and shared a look with Laurel, who only grinned back at her and pulled her closer, her own glass of water balanced precariously in her lap.

"Iris," she sighed, like she was explaining something incredibly obvious, "you can't just _make_ a meet-cute happen. Like, it's not something you can plan for, it just has to happen on its own."

"Felicityyy," Iris whined, honest-to-god stomping her foot—not an easy task, considering her position on the couch, and the fact that her feet barely reached the ground. "Come on, the entire premise of this mission is all about planning. You have to have _something_."

"Nope," Felicity said, popping the 'p' and frowning into her cup of wine. "No can do."

"Laurel?" Iris turned to her with her best puppy-eyes, but she should've known better to think that Laurel would be on her side on this, especially considering who she was up against.

"Sorry, Iris, but I'm with Felicity on this one," Laurel laughed, and Iris stuck out her tongue at her. Of course she was. "It can't feel forced, you know? Otherwise it won't work as well."

"Oh, come on," Iris pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You guys got to have your meet-cute. In fact, you had the cutest meet-cute of them all. That's no fair."

Laurel blinked at her, stunned silent for a moment, before bursting out into laughter, burying her head into Felicity's shoulder to muffle it. It took her a few tries, but she finally managed to stop laughing long enough to get a full sentence out, determinedly avoiding Felicity's gaze, who was very clearly trying to get her to laugh again.

"Iris, oh my God," she hiccupped, wiping underneath her eyes, "in what world do you call almost getting blown up a _meet-cute_? Felicity was, like, real close to not making it out of that building."

"Well, yeah, but you saved her, and look at you two now," Iris pressed her lips together, determined to hold her ground. And not laugh. Which was really hard, because now that she thought about it, it _did_ sound ridiculous. She still wasn't going to give it up, though.

"My hero," Felicity grinned, leaning her head against Laurel's shoulder and giving her the sappiest, most tooth-rotting-ly adorable look Iris had ever seen. _Ugh_.

"See! That's what I mean!" Iris huffed, gesturing to the two of them. "You guys are adorable. It's not fair. What if _I_ want that, too?"

She clamped a hand over her mouth as soon as the words left her mouth, kicking herself for letting that slip and glaring at the wine glass sitting innocently to the side, blaming it for making her tongue loose. Felicity was giving her a funny look, and Laurel a soft, understanding little smile, and she realized they were about to get into very secret, very personal territory here. Not the point of tonight, and certainly not anything she was ready to discuss, not even with Linda, although she probably should.

"Anyway!" she coughed, just as Laurel opened her mouth to speak, "We're getting off topic here, I think. I get it—no meet-cute. I'll drop the idea. For now. So let's…change the subject, maybe. Like, we probably shouldn't have left such an important file laying on the ground like that. I'd love to see the look on Waller's face if she could see it. Actually—scratch that. I totally wouldn't. Talk about nightmares."

"Yeah, we should probably pick it up," Laurel nodded, but she was still looking at Iris in that way that said she was letting the other matter drop for now, the discussion about _feelings_ , but the conversation clearly wasn't over for good.

"We probably should," Iris agreed, staring at the ground. She looked back up to Laurel, and then to Laurel looked to Felicity, and then Felicity back to Iris. They all looked at each other expectantly, but no one made any move to get off the couch and get it, and it didn't take much for them to dissolve into laughter again.

"You know," Felicity said slowly, sobering up, her eyes flicking over to the file still lying open on the floor in front of them, the papers bent and crinkled from the sheer amount of times they'd been over them in the past few hours. "He really doesn't look dangerous at all. Actually, he's kind of…cute."

"Excuse me?" Laurel huffed, pulling her arm away from its spot around Felicity's shoulders and putting a hand over her heart like she was actually offended.

"Oh, shush, you," Felicity rolled her eyes, leaning over to place a sloppy kiss on Laurel's cheek that left her grinning ear-to-ear. "You know I think you're the cutest. I didn't mean it like that—I was just thinking that he just…I don't know. Doesn't look like a killer to me. It's in the eyes, you know? Although I guess looks can be deceiving."

Iris pursed her lips in thought. She didn't respond, just sat back and started the movie again, but she couldn't help the growing feeling of unease that Felicity was right.

xXx

"Where are you going?" Linda asked her the next day at work, as Iris hastily checked her watch and pulled on her coat. Her eyes were full of curiosity, the corners of her mouth tugging into a frown. "And why are you in such a hurry? Iris, I know there's no way you could've finished that story on Central's crime rate already. Larkin will have your head if he finds out you're cutting out early."

"I'm not cutting out early; I'm taking a lunch break," Iris insisted, but Linda continued to eye her dubiously. "And, okay, I know you saw me eat lunch like an hour ago but—I really have to visit my dad about something. It's, uh, urgent. Actually, it's a question related to this article, you know. CCPD, crime and all that jazz. Kind of go hand in hand."

"Okay, but…couldn't you just call him? Cell phones are a thing, you know."

"Well, yeah," Iris bit her lip, mind working furiously, whipping out the first excuse that she could think of. "But he never answers his phone at work. And I already tried, you know, so—so I think it's best if I just head over there."

"Are you sure you really want to face Larkin's wrath, later? Is it _really_ worth it?"

"I mean…you _could_ cover for me? Pretty, pretty please, since you're such a good friend, and you love me and want me to be happy, and I'll totally owe you for, like, ever?" Iris ventured hopefully, giving Linda a sheepish grin, and batting her eyelashes innocently. In truth, she really didn't care much about what Larkin had to say right now—and she'd much rather face his wrath than Waller's. Compared to her, his anger was like drizzle going up against a hurricane.

It was easy to prioritize, in this case. She needed information for Larkin, but she needed information for Waller more, and she had to get going on her mission. Waller had made it very clear that she shouldn't take her sweet old time with this, and besides, it'd kind of be like killing two birds with one stone. There were definitely some things she could find out for her article while at the CCPD, after all.

"Ugh, well when you say it like that… _fine_ ," Linda sighed, exasperated, crinkling her nose at Iris to express her disapproval. "But this is the last time, 'kay? I sort of value my job here, you know. And Larkin doesn't have the same soft spot for me that he has for you, so I'm not really as safe in the first place."

"You're a life-saver, seriously, just the best," Iris said, blowing Linda a kiss, already half-way out the door. "And I owe you! So much!"

"Mmm, flattery will get you nowhere, West!" Linda shouted at her back, and Iris grinned to herself the whole drive over to the police station, vowing to pay for her coffee every day for the next week.

xXx

"Detective…Detective Thawne… _Eddie!_ " Iris called out, finally catching up to him as he was just making his way up the stairs. She remembered his name from all the times she'd heard her dad referring to him as such, and the use of it seemed to do the trick. He whirled around, just as she came shuffling to a stop in front of him.

" _What_ —? Oh. You're Joe West's daughter, right? I've seen you around here before."

"Yeah, I am, but that doesn't matter," she waved it off briskly, eager to get down to the point. "Listen, what's this I heard about a task force to take down the Flash?"

Instantly, she saw his face harden, his gaze cut left and right in apprehension.

"I'm not supposed to talk about that."

"Oh, come on, please? I'm a just a poor, desperate reporter, here. _And,_ need I remind you _,_ your partner's daughter. You've gotta give me something. I don't need details—well, yet. I'm just…curious." She laid a hand on his arm, batting her eyelashes and turning her charm on full throttle. Or attempting to, at least. God, Linda was right, she was rusty with this—but it seemed to work, anyway, because he swallowed hard and, with another cautionary glance from side to side, opened his mouth, leaning in and speaking in a hushed voice.

"Okay, yes, the CCPD is issuing a task force to capture and take in the Flash. I'm one of the lead detectives heading it. I'll give you that, but that's all I can really say, Miss West."

"Please, call me Iris," she winked, laying it on thick. In truth, this guy was rather attractive, so it wasn't too hard to pretend. "That's interesting, really interesting…but a lot of people out there think what the Flash is doing is a good thing. That he's a hero, even. Why is the CCPD so intent on stopping him?"

Eddie's expression darkened, anger clouding his eyes. It was obvious that this was something of a sensitive subject for him. "The Flash is _dangerous_. One man running around like that with all that power, playing vigilante, treating crime in this city like it's some sort of game? Like he's above the law? Please, I don't think so. It's just not right. It's not _normal_. And sooner or later, it's not going to be safe. Hell, it already isn't."

Iris felt a strange sense of déjà vu as Eddie talked—his reasoning sounded remarkably similar to Waller's, but coming from someone else, someone who wasn't her boss…the words didn't sit right with her. Like she was on the cusp of being aware of something she didn't want to be aware of, didn't want to question. She hastily pushed away her unease, returning to the task at hand. _Keep a cool head, gather the information you need, and leave._

"What, you think he's some great big hero or something?" Detective Thawne snapped when she didn't respond right away, mistaking, not altogether without reason, her silence for disapproval. "I swear, he's got this whole damn city under his spell."

Iris shook her head, reminding herself what side she was supposed to be on. But the truth, she realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach, was that it was honestly hard not to be, if some of the stories she'd heard—that she'd _written_ about, even scoring a front-page article a couple of times in the process—were anything to go on. Rescuing people from burning buildings, stopping armed robberies, taking down other people with strange and unexplainable abilities who seemed intent on hurting others, but…no. Amanda Waller's warning echoed in her head, assuring her that stories were merely that—stories. Twist and spun and woven this way and that, they could be made to seem like anything, even heroic.

"No, not at all. I quite agree, actually. That he needs be stopped, I mean—there's no way he can be allowed to carry on with this whole little shtick of his."

"You do?" he blinked at her, mouth slightly agape, like he clearly hadn't expected her to be agreeing with him. It wasn't an unreasonable reaction—after all, even though she was supposed to be doing the same exact thing, have about the same mindset, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was wrong. That she didn't agree with him. Which was bad, because the Flash was not a hero—not to her. The Flash was her _target_. Her mission. So she pushed those thoughts away too, and nodded in response to Eddie's question, forcing an indulgent little smile.

"Yeah, of course. Now that I think about it, though, I also imagine the police aren't too fond of him for taking over their jobs…?"

He opened his mouth to protest, closed it, opened it again, and finally deflated a bit, conceding defeat, knowing she'd see right through it if he tried to deny it.

"That's…well, you're not wrong," he sighed, shaking his head, a bitter look on his face. "It was nice to meet you Iris, but I really do need to get back to work, and—"

"Oh, no, of course—I'm sorry for holding you up. Thank you so much for indulging me with this, you know, answering my questions. I appreciate it, detective."

"Eddie," he corrected her with a smile that was just a little too friendly. _Remember who you're here for, Iris,_ she reminded herself. This might be a problem, if he actually thought he was interested in her. He wasn't the guy she was after, and she couldn't have him getting in the way of things. "It's Eddie, if I'm calling you Iris. Well, I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, then."

"I'm counting on it." She responded absently, only half paying attention to what he was saying, while still distantly aware of the fact that she might need to keep this man as an ally—or at least keep him close. Yes, she thought, Amanda Waller's instructions ringing in her ears. She'd have to keep an eye on him, make sure he and his task force didn't get in the way of her own mission. She sorted through the information she'd just acquired, thinking, cataloging, planning.

So the CCPD really was assembling an entire task force to take down the Flash, huh? She smirked to herself as she watched Eddie hurry away up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time and throwing an occasional glance or two over his shoulder at her, to which she responded with a friendly little wave. Oh, but this was going to be _fun._ After all, she didn't need a task force. She was going to take down the Flash all by herself.


	2. A Slight Deviation

As it turned out, Felicity and Laurel were right, after all. Because she hadn't even been planning for it to happen, hadn't been ready, really—she had just gotten done talking to Detective Thawne, hadn't even been there for Allen, not yet. She'd been there strictly for information, to find out what she could about what the CCPD had up their sleeve in terms of the Flash and whether or not they would pose a problem, as Waller had instructed her to do. In fact, at the moment, she hadn't even been thinking about what the file had said: that Allen worked here in the first place. She supposed the reason she'd never run into him before was because he was always cooped up in his lab.

Really, it was almost funny how quickly it had happened—she watched Eddie disappear up the stairs, turned around with the intention of stopping at her dad's desk to talk to him for a bit before heading back to work. She was looking down at her phone, checking for any new messages from work and contemplating whether or not she should somehow arrange for some cute coffee shop meet up—after all, she knew, thanks to Felicity, that he stopped at Jitters before work every morning to get his morning fix—or whether she should find some way to approach him in the precinct, when she walked straight into something—no, someone—very solid and warm. And _tall_. The papers he'd been carrying scattered everywhere as he dropped them with a startled ' _oof_!', and when she caught her bearings enough to look up she found, with a thrill of excitement and dread, herself looking straight at the very man she'd been assigned to take down. And he was—apologizing?

"Oh! Sorry, sorry, I was just—I wasn't—I'm sorry, I'm really—"

"Sorry, I get it," Iris laughed, marveling at the adorably awkward, fumbling man in front of her, apologizing for something that had arguably been her fault. After all, she hadn't been looking where she was going—although, she supposed, he must not have been either. "It's okay, I'm sorry too. I wasn't paying attention, either."

He cracked a tentative little smile at her, holding back his stammered apologies, and she was struck by how… _nice_ he seemed. This was the guy ARGUS thought was 'too dangerous' to be out on the streets? This was the 'potential menace to society' they apparently had on their hands? Her boss had warned her that it was hidden, that there was more to him that met the eye, that he shouldn't be underestimated, but…Iris was good at reading people. Good at telling when someone was lying, or faking something, or was or wasn't, you know, a decent person. This guy? Didn't seem to be pretending, and the clumsiness seemed genuine. Still, it was best to be careful, on her guard.

"Here, let me help you with that," Iris offered, as his gaze fell downward and his smile dropped, seeing the mess of papers at his feet. He sighed and crouched down, starting to pick them up. "You look like you could use a hand."

"Oh—thank you," he blinked in surprise as she knelt down next to him, and flashed her an appreciative little smile. "I am really sorry about bumping into you, though. I got coffee on your shirt."

Coffee…? She looked down, and sure enough, there was a little splotch of liquid already drying on her top. She wasn't particularly fond of this shirt anyway, but she hadn't even realized he'd been holding coffee. Where had it gone? And how had more of it not spilled? She looked around and—oh. Somehow he seemed to have put it down, moved it out of the way before it could do any more damage, and it sat innocently the desk next to them. If this really was the right guy, which she was still having a hard time believing that it was, she thought she had an idea of how he'd managed it.

An idea suddenly occurred to her, the perfect way to really introduce herself, to get the ball rolling on this mission and talk to him one-on-one. "There is a way you could make it up to me, you know."

"Anything," he nodded seriously, and she was struck by how sincere he seemed. How much he genuinely wanted to make up for a small little splotch on her shirt when she'd been the one who knocked his papers all over the floor.

"You could join me for coffee sometime," she said with a smile. She couldn't help herself. Every meet-cute had to involve coffee in it in some way—at least in her world. _Take that, Felicity,_ she thought.

"Oh, that—yeah, yeah. I could definitely do that. I mean, I have my lunch break in an hour, if that works…?"

"I'm off today," Iris lied, silently praying Linda would think of a good cover for her, and debating whether she should just call in sick for the rest of the day. Still though, even now she wasn't really off. Just because she wasn't at CCPN didn't mean she wasn't working. _This_ was work. "So that works just fine for me. Jitters okay?"

"Jitters is great," he replied with a smile of his own, nervously shuffling the papers in his hands as she handed him the ones she'd collected, and they stood back up together.

 _Oh_ , she thought, taking in his eager grin, _this was just_ too _easy_.

 **xXx**

 _Well, fuck,_ she thought, watching him turn around to wave at her and walk right into the door on his way out, suppressing a grin behind her fingers, a warm, fond feeling working its way into her chest at the sight. She actually _liked_ the guy. She hadn't been expecting to actually _like_ him, but he was sort of an adorable mess, really, and he seemed genuinely sweet. It wasn't until she noticed the tell-tale streak of yellow-and-red from the other side of the building outside that she was violently remembered of the reason for this whole mission in the first place.

Waller suspected that he'd _killed_ somebody. No—not even just somebody, but several somebodies, including her mentor at CCPN. That was some pretty heavy stuff, enough to wipe the dopey grin off her face and make her down the rest of her coffee, which had already gone cold, with a grimace, and bring her back down to Earth. Still…thinking of his smile, that stupid, bright, impossibly sunny smile, it was hard to imagine that he had it in him to hurt a fly—intentionally, at least.

She wondered what he was being called away for right now, who was being robbed or burglarized or attacked. He'd gotten a phone call in the middle of their conversation, explaining something very enthusiastically with the use of his hands as Iris watched on in amusement, and his expression had immediately grown somber at whatever the person on the other line was saying. He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over in the process, and apologized at least ten times, even as he was already walking towards the door, for having to leave so abruptly, insisting over and over again that it was urgent. It was probably Flash business, she concluded with interest; it had to be.

She looked at the number he'd left in her phone, when they'd first bumped into each other at the police station earlier, and smiled despite herself.

 **xXx**

"So, dad," Iris said casually, later that night, throwing a pinch of salt into the pot. She had moved out a while ago—she'd had to once she'd started up her job at ARGUS, couldn't keep making excuses as to why she was getting home so late and where she'd been and how she'd gotten this injury and that—but it was Friday, which meant that it was Family night. Besides, she stopped by for dinner often enough, anyway, didn't like the idea of her dad being alone all the time. "What's your opinion on Barry Allen?"

Her dad shot her a curious look as he stirred the pot of stew he was looming over, and she fought to keep her expression as neutral and innocent as possible. "Why are you asking me that? Have you ever even met the kid?"

"Well, I ran into him the other day, and I'm curious." She deliberately didn't mention that they'd gone out for coffee, had already planned to meet up again. Most definitely left out the real reason behind her curiosity. "I've heard some mixed things about him, you know—Eddie doesn't seem to think too highly of him, and, well, you work with him, don't you? He seemed okay to me, just a little scatterbrained. I wanted to hear your opinion."

"Since when are you on a first name basis with my partner?" Joe lifted an eyebrow at her, and again, she schooled her features so as not to give anything away. "I hope you haven't been seeing each other behind my back, or anything. Do I have to have a… _conversation_ with him?"

 _There's a lot of things I've been doing behind your back, daddy_ , Iris thought to herself, _but Detective Thawne is not one of them_.

"No, no—just ran into him the other day too. Had a nice little chat. Which, as I was saying—what do you think of Allen?"

Joe sighed, thankfully letting the matter drop. The suspicion seemed to melt away as his eyes softened a bit. "Allen is a good kid. A really good kid. Scatterbrained, sure, and always late—I swear, Singh is going to have his head, one of these days—but really good at what he does. He's smart, definitely, and hard working. Most of all, he's got a good heart. Always wants to do the right thing, you know? We're lucky to have him."

The touch of fondness in her father's voice as he spoke took Iris off guard. It was rare for her father to have a soft spot for anyone, other than her, of course, but judging by the way he talked about Barry, it was clear he thought he was deserving of one. And there was something else, too, something that was setting off warning bells in her head, made her distinctly suspicious, and only added to what she'd gathered from Barry's file, earlier.

"He's just CSI though, isn't he? You make it sound like he's out saving people left and right or something."

Her dad's eyes widened, and his back-tracking was enough to raise Iris's suspicions even further. "I didn't say—that's not—no, of course not. That's ridiculous, sweetheart. I just meant that he's very adamant about doing the right thing, you know, making sure we have all the evidence, ensuring things are fair."

"Hmm," she said, pursing her lips, chopping up the peppers with just a little more force than necessary. Her thoughts were racing, trying to make sense of things. Did her dad know that Barry Allen was the Flash? It sure seemed like it, judging by the pride in his voice when he'd spoken of him, the respect, the fondness that didn't seem likely to just be because he was a good CSI. She knew that he typically didn't have much patience for the younger badges he worked with—after all, she knew he still gave Eddie a hard time…although that might have something to do with the fact that in her dad's mind, he would never be able to take the place of Fred Chyre, the partner he'd lost.

But still, it was odd. Her stomach dropped as another thought hit her—was her dad _working_ with the Flash? She hadn't noticed it as much as she should have, probably because she was harboring so many secrets of her own, but now that she thought about it, he _had_ been acting strange lately. Like he was hiding something, making excuses, keeping secrets.

Not that she was one to talk. Really, she was in no place to be getting mad at anyone for keeping secrets, and yet…it still stung. _I am the world's biggest hypocrite_ , she thought to herself, handing her dad the ingredients she'd just finished cutting and determinedly ignoring the probing look he was giving her. Okay, so she couldn't—or at least she shouldn't—be mad at him if he was working with the Flash, but there was no way around the fact that it would make things complicated.

"Pass me those potatoes, too, will you?" his voice cut through her train of thought, and she handed them over, suddenly grateful for the change in topic. She handed plate full of the ones she'd cut up to him, watching as he used his mixing spoon to scrape them into the pot, listening to the soft 'plunk' as they tumbled into the boiling liquid.

"Anyway," she chirped, faking cheerfulness, as though their previous conversation had never happened, "How was work today? Anything interesting?"

Her dad looked up from his stirring and gave her a smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle, happily launching into a tale about Captain Singh and one of the new interns at the precinct as the stew boiled away on the stove. All the while, they continued to chop up and add the proper ingredients, side by side, just like old times. For a moment, she could almost let herself pretend that this was her life. That things were normal, and simple, and there wasn't a world of secrets they were both hiding.

Almost.

 **xXx**

It was cute, honestly. Barry only waited a day to text her about meeting up again, apologizing, again, profusely for having to run out on her so suddenly.

"Sorry I had to leave like that the other day," he said, sounding out of breath. She wondered where he was coming from, and whether he'd just gotten done running at super-speed. That had to leave a person winded; she wasn't narcissistic enough to think that the reason he was breathless was because of her. Even if the next thing out of his mouth made it quite a possibility that it was. "Really, I would never run out on someone like you if it weren't absolutely necessary. I mean, you're—actually, you know what, I'm gonna shut up now."

"No, please, go on. I'm what?" Iris smirked, wishing she could see the look on his face. She could imagine the blush creeping into his cheeks, him wringing his hands together nervously like he had when they'd met up at Jitters.

"You know, you're really pretty and—oh man, that sounds so lame, seriously, but you also seem really cool, and— _shut up, Cisco_!" he hissed at someone presumably with him, listening in on their conversation, and she could just make out the faint sound of their laughter. "Sorry, that was a friend of mine, he's being an ass. But yeah, just—I'm sorry, I'm _so_ bad at this. I just really enjoyed to talking to you and I'd love to meetupagainsometimeifyouwantyoudon'thavetobut—"

"Woah, slow down there, buddy," she laughed, her chest swelling a bit with warmth at all his fumbling flattery. "I would love to meet up with you again, too. We should do something fun. Get to know each other more. I have a feeling there's a lot more to you than meets the eye."

"You know, I was just thinking the same about you."

 **xXx**

Their first actual date, as Iris considered it, their make-up for their hurried coffee-and-get-to-know-you little meet up, was at a bowling alley. Iris's favorite bowling alley, actually, and she'd sort of been taken aback when he'd suggested it, because usually she was the one dragging people there with her.

"That sounds perfect," she'd said over the phone, "but I should warn you that I'm going to kick your ass. I am an excellent bowler."

"Hey, don't get too cocky," he'd laughed, and she'd found she really liked the sound of it. "I'll have you know I'm pretty good myself. I wouldn't be so sure you're the one who's going to be doing the ass kicking."

"We'll see, Allen," she said, unable to wipe the smile off her face, and Linda, who'd been watching her curiously at her desk as she made the call, had given her a funny look. Iris had just shaken her head at her and mouthed the word later, but Linda had only scowled. They both knew it was an empty promise. "We'll see."

 **xXx**

She blinked up at the screen displaying their scores, rubbed her eyes, squeezed them shut and opened them again like when she did the numbers in front of her would be different. But no—the evidence was right there in front of her, mocking her in big, ugly, blinking red numbers. Her score was 200. His was 205. And the game was over.

"I don't believe it," she said slowly, eyes glued to the screen like she was willing for the numbers to change. "There has to be some mistake—you must've cheated. I'm calling a rematch."

"Believe it," he shrugged, smirking at her, and she had to remind herself that she was supposed to be annoyed with him, not thinking about how good a little bit of confidence looked on him. "I'm totally down for a rematch, though."

 **xXx**

The first time they kissed, it was after they—and by they, she thought, it had really been mostly him—had just polished off what must have been at least a week's worth of Chinese food, and then after that an extra-large popcorn at the movies, and even after _that_ he'd still insisted they go out for ice-cream. She'd been amazed that he'd even had any room left in his skinny body for it, but with Felicity whispering in her ear, and listening in on their conversations, they'd quickly determined it had something to do with his powers. Something that meant he _had_ to eat a lot to sustain his energy, much more than normal. With a definite note of jealousy in her voice, Felicity had dubbed it super-metabolism. Which could definitely be valuable information regarding ultimately taking him down—after all, if he head to eat so much, it must mean that he'd be significantly weakened if he didn't—but she'd honestly been having so much fun at the time she hadn't been overly-concerned by it.

And then, as he was rambling about some scientific inconsistency in the movie they'd just seen—a superhero movie, and a deliberate choice on her part because she was just that cheesy—he'd missed his mouth slightly and gotten ice cream on his upper lip, and she didn't even really think about what she was doing, just stopped him in the middle of the sidewalk to pull him down to her. He was so tall she had to stand on her tip-toes to reach his face even with his bent down eagerly to meet her halfway, and she kissed the mess away, savoring the sweetness not only from the sugar but just the taste of his lips, too—soft and sweet and somehow warm, even despite the ice-cream—against her own.

She hadn't really been thinking about the mission at all when she'd done it—the thought of it hadn't even crossed her mind when she'd decided to kiss him, and certainly not in what followed after. She hadn't even really remembered the reason why she was going on dates with him, trying to work her way into his life, until after he left the next morning and she was lying in her bed, home alone in her apartment on a Saturday morning, and her phone had rung. She'd picked it up, somewhat grudgingly, and it had been Waller calling, insisting that she recount the information about Barry's bizarre eating habits to her. But before that, it had all just felt so natural. And when he texted her later, asking her whether she was free next weekend, well—those definitely weren't _butterflies_ in her stomach.

 **xXx**

It was frustrating. The fact that Iris knew about Barry being the Flash, and yet he thought that she didn't. The fact that him trying so hard to hide that part of his life from her was what was hindering their relationship. Which, of course, was hindering the mission. Things were moving too slow, too strained, and she knew Waller was getting impatient.

At some point, she supposed, she had to let him know that she knew, or they weren't going to really get anywhere with this. Not when it was clear Barry wasn't sure whether he could fully trust her with his identity yet—which, really, he couldn't, but that was another matter entirely. And not when he kept having to make excuses, and their whole relationship was just one lie after the other, built on an unsteady foundation of them. At least one of them had to be honest, she reasoned.

"Are you okay?" he asked one day, after he'd whisked her away from the scene of a crime, gripping her elbows to steady her after placing her safely, ironically, on the rooftop of Jitters. Even though he was blurring his face, she could tell his eyes were wide and full of concern. He seemed to realize a moment too late that he was being just a little too friendly, and abruptly dropped his hands, stepping back and putting at least ten feet between them in the blink of an eye. "Um, random citizen."

"Barry," she sighed, deciding it was probably a good time to sort this out. "I know it's you. You don't have to pretend with me anymore." The irony of those words coming out of _her_ mouth wasn't lost on her, and she felt a momentary pang of self-loathing at the shock and relief that registered on his face as he stopped vibrating his features.

"Oh, thank God," he said, closing the distance between them in—well, in a flash—and sweeping her into his arms. "You have no idea how much I hated lying to you," he mumbled into her hair, holding her tight, and she was immensely relieved that she couldn't see her face at the moment. Because she really did have an idea. She really, really did. "You're not mad at me, for keeping it a secret?"

If things were different, if she could be mad at him for lying without looking like a big, fat hypocrite, then she was sure she would be. But as it stood, she really had no right to be all high and mighty about secrets, all things considered.

"No, I…I think it's amazing. I think what you're doing is amazing. You're a hero, Barry," she said, and it struck her for the first time in a while that she _meant_ it. She shouldn't, not considering the whole premise of this mission, and yet…she did.

"Oh. Oh, that's—well, thanks," he grinned at her, pulling away, his eyes lighting up with the sudden spark of an idea. Before she could say anything else, he scooped her up, cradling her close to his chest. "This is great, though—now I can introduce you to Cisco and Caitlin, and show you around STAR Labs, and—oh, man. I have a _lot_ to show you."

 **xXx**

Her first visit to STAR Labs was wrought with introductions and a lot of gleeful showing off on Barry's part, which she really didn't mind. It _was_ amazing, after all. It wasn't until the third time, as she was standing in front of the row of computers and chatting light-heartedly with Caitlin and Cisco as Barry was out, zipping around the streets of Central City, that she planted the specially designed, nearly invisible bug Felicity had built right on the side of the computer screen.

Felicity would text her later about how big of a breakthrough it was, about how pleased Waller would be, because through it she had been able to hack into the STAR Labs computer system and gain access to all their most top-secret documents—including, of course, the current medical records of one Barry Allen. Medical records that detailed all the remarkable changes in his body, what his cells responded to and what slowed him down, the whole nine yards.

Looking back, Iris wouldn't be able to see the night as a victory at all. Because shortly after she'd planted the device, Barry had flashed into the cortex and collapsed in the middle of it, beat up and bloody and barely breathing after a fight with a meta-human Cisco referred to as "the Weather Wizard." Which would've been funny, really, under any other circumstances, but definitely hadn't been in the moment. She hadn't even realized she'd barely been breathing, either, until Barry had finally regained consciousness hours later, after Caitlin had patched him up and treated his wounds, all the while assuring a horrified Iris that he would be fine. That he'd had _worse_.

She held his hand the whole time, and the tears that had clouded her vision had been very much real. She'd leave that part out in her report to Waller, later.

 **xXx**

At some point, she started staying the night at his place, or else he would stay at hers. She told herself it was just an important part of the mission, a way of inserting herself into his daily routine in a way that would make the inevitable fallout both easier and worse, but that wasn't really the truth, and she knew it. The truth was that she enjoyed it. She enjoyed falling asleep in his arms, the feeling of his impossibly fast heartbeat thrumming against her ear with her head laying on his chest, the sleepy, contented smile he gave her when she woke up, still in that very same position, in the morning. She enjoyed _being with him_. Which was why, for the fifth night in a row now, she was found herself snuggled up against him in his bed.

She was just on the brink of sleep, burying her head against his chest with his arm around her waist and thinking about how nice that felt and how nice this felt and how she never really wanted to get up from this bed. How right now, she'd be content to just lay here like this, so warm and content and comfortable, forever, when she heard it. It was so quiet, so mumbled and nearly incoherent that she almost missed it. Would have missed it, if he wasn't so close.

" _I love you."_

The words came out like a sigh, all breathless and sleepy, and as soon as they sunk in, she froze, her entire body going rigid. Suddenly, she was very much awake, as though someone had doused her in cold water, and she watched his face carefully, eyes wide with shock. His expression was peaceful, eyes still closed, lips slightly parted, breathing steady and even, and…it suddenly hit her that he was still asleep. _Talking in his sleep_ , and yet that didn't dull the shock any, didn't take away from what he'd said, because although it was the first time she was hearing it from his mouth and he could be dreaming about anyone or anything else, somehow she _knew_ that he meant it. That he meant it for _her_.

 _I love you_. The words thundered against her eardrums, like a siren blaring somewhere in her head, incessant and unrelenting _. I love you, I love you, I love you_ …

She stared up at the ceiling, heart thudding in her chest, an endless litany of his sleepily muttered ' _I love you's_ replaying in her thoughts and forcing her eyes open. This was supposed to be a good thing, she thought desperately. This meant that the mission was going exactly according to plan, that she was playing her part perfectly, that she'd already achieved what Waller had asked of her. This meant that he trusted her. And hadn't the goal been to get him to fall for her? This should be an excellent development. Something to celebrate.

But then why didn't she feel accomplished? Why did her heart feel like it was trying to fly out of her ribcage? Why did her throat feel so dry, why was her stomach churning like she was about to be sick, how could she feel so full and so hollow at the same time?

The simplicity with which the answer came to her scared her even more. _Because you love him back_ , a voice whispered in her head, as she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest while he slept on next to her, oblivious to her inner torment. _You love him back, and you've fallen for him too, and that was never supposed to happen. Loving him was not a part of the plan_.

 **xXx**

After that, she stopped wearing her earpiece, or else she'd make sure to turn off when she was with him. It felt wrong, intrusive, and she didn't want anyone else listening in on their every conversation, could no longer stand the idea of an unseen third party being there, in secret, in all their private moments. Those were theirs, her and Barry's alone, and more and more she found herself wanting to keep it that way. And, although she was afraid to admit it, she knew there was another reason for it too. That she didn't want to be the one to cause his downfall anymore, didn't want to be a part of that at all, even though she was now whether she liked it or not.

Even knowing the reasons for this mission in the first place, she couldn't stand the thought of hurting him, hated herself more and more with every day that passed and he was still in the dark, every time she thought about all of the information he'd already trusted her with that she'd given away. She wanted it to stop, and yet…a selfish part of her didn't, because when it did, when he knew the truth, there was no doubt in her mind that things between them would be over. He'd become such a big part of her life, in such a small time. The thought of losing him made something in her chest ache.

Of course, it hadn't taken long for Felicity to notice what she'd been doing, that she'd been disobeying orders. And then it hadn't taken long for Waller to find out, either.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" Iris felt a chill down run down her spin as she echoed the same words as she had just a little over two month ago, in this very same office, regarding the very same mission.

"Ah, yes, Agent West…" Waller said, her tone so hard and icy it made Iris's skin crawl. This was not going to be a fun conversation, she thought, taking in the barely concealed fury burning in Waller's eyes. "I understand that you've been turning your ear piece off when meeting with Mr. Allen? Ms. Smoak tells me that you prefer to talk to him without the aid of the communication devices meant to keep you in contact with your fellow agents here. The devices, need I remind you, meant to catalogue the information you're supposed to be gathering, and take note of valuable intel on your target."

Waller's tone was deceptively pleasant, but Iris understood the thinly concealed threat within it. She tried not to be too angry at Felicity as she let it all sink in. For one, Waller was incredibly intimidating. If she wanted information from someone, all it really took was a harsh look, a command, and that information was hers. For another, for a secret agent, Felicity was absolutely terrible at keeping secrets. She had the tendency to ramble, to put her foot in her mouth, and it wasn't unlikely that she'd let it slip without really meaning to. Either way, she knew her friend wouldn't have intentionally sold her out like that. Still, it was frustrating. Especially because now Waller _knew_.

"I apologize, ma'am. It's just that, as I mentioned to Felicity, knowing those devices are on and everything makes it harder to make the act seem real. It's just—I find I can be more convincing about pretending to like Allen and all if I know someone's not listening in on our conversations. How can I gain his trust if I know we're not the only people in on it?"

"Are you quite sure," Waller's voice was hard, her eyes searching, "that the real reason isn't because the act isn't just an _act_ for you, anymore, Agent?"

Iris felt the heat rush to her face at the accusation, and fought to keep her face impassive, her voice even. She was treading in very dangerous waters, here, and she knew it. "Of course not. Barry Allen is nothing but a target to me. A mission. I wouldn't do anything to compromise that, and I swear that I'm not withholding any information from you by keeping those comms off. Everything I've figured out, everything he's told me, I've relayed to you and my fellow agents."

Waller remained skeptical, drumming her fingers against her desk like some ominous death march, leveling Iris with a look that was almost predatory. "Hmm. I see. So I won't have to reassign this mission to someone who's not so easily attached, I hope?"

"No!" Iris burst out, immediately cursing herself for sounding so over-eager. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and kept her tone clipped and unemotional when she spoke again, working hard to mask the anger and desperation hidden within it. "No, I assure you that won't be necessary. I am _not_ attached, not in that way, I swear. I will bring the Flash to you, and bring him down, as promised."

"Good," Waller's eyes flashed, and she leaned back in her chair, sparing Iris one last calculating look before gesturing towards the door. Iris stood, her legs feeling like lead underneath her, once again understanding herself to be excused.

"Oh, and Agent West," Waller called out after her, just as Iris was halfway out the door, on the verge, to her own horror, of tears. She felt her blood run cold as she turned to face Waller again, determined, at the very least, to look her in the eyes. As if sensing her defiance, however, Waller kept her head down, bent over something she was writing, not even bothering to look up as she addressed her. "If I find out that you're lying to me, if I find out in any way that you in any way intend to undermine or sabotage this mission…there will be consequences. For you and your little boyfriend."


	3. The Best-Laid Plans

"Is something bothering you?" Barry asked her over breakfast one morning, watching her frown as she picked absentmindedly at the pancakes in front of her. She'd stayed at his place again the night before, not even to be intimate, not because she'd wanted to _sleep_ with him, at least not like that, but simply for the comfort. "Actually, scratch that, I can tell something is definitely bothering you. So the real question here is—what's wrong?"

For a moment she could only marvel about the fact that he'd picked up on it so easily. She was supposed to be good at this kind of thing: at hiding her emotions, at playing it cool, at pretending. The fact that he could read her like that was…disconcerting, to say the least. But it also made something squirm inside her stomach, something not necessarily unpleasant but definitely unexpected. Because now that she thought of it, she could pretty much read him like an open book, too. A part of that was more or less because he _was_ an open book, and he sort of wore his heart on his sleeve, sure, but she liked to think that it was also because there was a deeper connection there, too. _Not good, Iris_ , her mind supplied. _That's not the kind of reaction you should be having, and definitely not something you should want._

And yet, that's just what it was, wasn't it? Because she did want this. And not just as part of a mission, but…ever since she'd heard him say that he loved her in his sleep, ever since she'd realized that she loved him back, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. How could she love someone who was supposed to be her target? Who Waller thought was a murderer? She couldn't—God, she just—she needed _answers_.

"Iris? You can tell me anything, you know. I'm here for you. But if you don't want to talk, that's okay too. I don't want you to think that I'm pushing you."

She blinked, the sound of his voice pulling her away from her thoughts, and it occurred to her that she still hadn't answered him yet. She let out a shaky breath, took one look at his face, his eyes so open and earnest, and her resolve crumbled. It was killing her, not knowing. She had to ask, had to know the truth, and screw trying to ferret the information out of him in secret. She'd just about had it with secrets, mostly because she was so fed up with her own. Her palms were sweaty and her heart suddenly felt like it was beating too fast, and _she had to ask_.

"Barry…look. You know how I work at the CCPN? Well, I do a lot of different things there, but primarily I'm an investigative reporter."

He nodded to show his understanding, reaching across the table to take her hands in his and gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, silently encouraging her to go on. She hadn't even realized her hands had been shaking until he was holding them steady. She paused for a moment, thinking hard, playing out the lie in her head to make sure it was believable enough to pass off before voicing it.

"Well, I get assigned to write and research about some pretty interesting things sometimes. Things that people are trying to keep under the wraps, you know, and it's my job to bring them to light. It's just—recently, I've been working on this article with some other people about…about the disappearance of my mentor there. Mason Bridge; I don't know if you heard about that?"

His expression darkened, and Iris felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach at the way something seemed to shutter closed in his eyes, which had seemed so soft and so honest only moments ago. It was clear that he knew what she was talking about, and yet he shook his head and schooled his features into something more neutral, looked her right in the eyes and denied it. "No, I don't know that I have."

"Right," she said miserably, because what if Waller was right? He was certainly acting shifty enough right now, and he looked about ready to—oh, God. For the first time, taking in the look on his face, she understood why Waller had called him dangerous, and could see him maybe even… _no_. She wasn't ready to accept that, not yet. Instead, she pressed on. "See, the thing is, I think Mason Bridge was murdered. No—I _know_ he was murdered. It just doesn't make sense that he would've just packed up and left, and with all of these meta-human people and all in this city, I'm sure there are people out there who have the ability and the power to have taken him out quickly, and then made it look like he just disappeared."

"Okay," Barry said slowly, his mouth drawn into a tight line. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Okay, so what are you trying to say, exactly? Because I'm getting the feeling that I'm missing something here, Iris."

"Hear me out, okay? So Mason was murdered. By some meta-human, and I…" she swallowed, wondering whether it was safe to say what she wanted— _needed_ —to say next, and decided that it didn't really matter anymore, anyway. "I've actually uncovered certain evidence…certain footage that shows he was killed by something…fast. And not long before that, at Mercury labs, there were those murders caused by—"

"—a high speed collision," Barry finished for her, his voice scarily hollow. He rubbed a shaky hand down his face and let it rest over his mouth for a moment, like he was at a loss for words, and it struck Iris how _sad_ he looked. Miserable, actually, like Iris had just trampled over all his hopes and dreams, and despite the weight of what she was asking him, she felt guilty knowing that she'd stolen away that easy smile of his. That she was the reason for that wounded look on his face. "You think I did that? You think I killed all those people?" He let out a laugh that was more of a sob, dropping his head into his hands and addressing the table, sounding incredibly small and defeated. "You really think I'm capable of that?"

His shoulders were shaking, and he sounded so raw, she wondered how she could've doubted him in the first place. _He didn't do this,_ she thought to herself, reaching out to pull his hands away from his face and take them in hers, and this time it was her holding him steady. _He couldn't have_. No one was that good of an actor, were they?

 _Of course they are_ , a vicious little part of her mind insisted. _Of course they could be_. She was, wasn't she? She just had a soft spot for him. And _that_ , more than anything, was dangerous. She shouldn't let her guard down, he still hadn't confirmed or denied it, and how could she really be sure, anyway? But still…

"No, Barry, I wasn't—well, I just—I needed to know. I needed to be sure. I'm sorry, I wasn't accusing you of anything, I just thought, you know, there might be—"

"It wasn't me," he cut her off, finally lifting his gaze from the table. The sadness in his expression had faded some, replaced now with anger, and a bitterness Iris didn't like seeing on him. "But I do know who it was."

Her heart skipped a beat as she processed that, leaning forward in her seat a bit. She breathed out a desperate " _Who_?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" he shook his head, scowling. "When I was younger, I thought of him as the man in yellow. When I met him, I knew him first as Harrison Wells. Cisco calls him the Reverse Flash. His real name, though, is Eobard Thawne, and he's the man who murdered my mother, fourteen years ago."

"Barry, I…" Iris stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open in shock, as she tried to figure out how to respond. How did you respond to something like that? "I'm so, so sorry, really I—wait, Dr. _Wells_?" she blinked, slowly processing that. "As in paralyzed from the waist down, in a wheel-chair, can't move his legs Dr. Wells? _That_ Wells?"

"It's a long story," Barry frowned, looking up at her through his lashes, almost like he was afraid she still wouldn't believe him, and she wondered just how often he'd gotten that response before. It hurt to see him hurting like this, so much pain on such a gentle face, and she wondered what he'd ever done to deserve this. And yet here she was, only making it worse. Especially considering why she was here in the first place, why she'd even been interacting with him at all. A trap, a trap, a trap, and he was _innocent_.

Iris managed a shaky smile, resolving to talk to Waller as soon as she got the chance, determined to fix this. "I've got time."

 **xXx**

"Barry didn't kill those people," Iris barged into Waller's office, throwing the door open with more force than she'd intended and wincing as it banged against the wall with a loud _smack_. Barging into Waller's office like this was unheard of. Barging into Waller's office _unannounced_ was like signing her own death sentence. It surprised her how, even under the weight of Waller's withering glare, as the woman slowly put her pen down and folded her hands in front her like a predator about to strike its prey, how unafraid she was of what would happen to her. All that mattered, all that she could think of, was making things right, getting Waller to understand what she'd just found out. There wasn't enough room for fear. "Please, ma'am, you have to believe me. The Flash is innocent."

"I know."

"This mission was a mistake, we were wrong, we were so wrong, I can prove it, I—wait, what?" she blinked, unsure she'd heard her right. "You _know_?"

"I know," Waller confirmed, regarding at Iris coolly, like it hadn't even phased here. "But the plan hasn't changed. I still want the Flash brought to me. I still need him stopped."

"But I…stopped from what? He's innocent, ma'am. I'm afraid I don't understand." Iris stared at her blankly, something unpleasant working its way under her skin. She had to have heard incorrectly, had to be misunderstanding, had to—

"Mr. Allen's involvement in the murders at Mercury Labs and of Mason Bridge was pure speculation, Agent West, not the driving cause for this mission, despite what I might have originally had you believe. I've known about the possibility of another speedster for a while now—this Reverse Flash, as he's called."

Iris gaped at her in disbelief, her confusion slowly edging towards fury. It took everything in her not to let it show. "Then why didn't you tell me?" she grit out, and her thoughts were so clouded with the anger and betrayal of it all she couldn't even bring herself to regret sounding so rude, or to be afraid. "Why let me keep on with this mission when you knew Barry was _innocent_? There's no reason for it. This…all of this, everything I've been doing over these past couple of months, has been entirely pointless."

And yet…that thought didn't quite sit well with her, either. She frowned, thinking it over _. Entirely Pointless?_ Well, maybe that wasn't quite true, she conceded, thinking of Barry. Of the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, the way his laugh made her feel lighter, the feeling of safety when he held her in his arms. Of how bright and sweet and _good_ he was. No, it hadn't been a total waste. Not by a long shot, because she'd met him, and she _loved_ him, and none of that was pretend, even though it was supposed to be.

"That's where you're wrong Agent West. I didn't tell you because it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because I still stand by what I said before—the Flash is dangerous. And you need to continue on with this mission, we still need him under our control, because it's only a matter of time before he snaps. Before he _is_ the one hurting people out there. You know what they say about power, Agent West. About how it corrupts."

"Yeah…" Iris let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding, staring hard at Waller. She looked important, sitting in that stupid chair of hers, back straight and with that air of authority that seemed to cling to her like a second skin. _Power corrupts_? Iris very much wanted to leap over the desk, the only thing that stood in between them, and throttle her, wipe that stupid smirk off her face. "Yeah, no kidding."

Waller looked like she was about to speak again, no doubt with some high-and-mighty excuse, but Iris spoke up again before she could. "What if I told you," she said slowly, choosing her words with care, "that I think I might need to be removed from my role in this mission? Ma'am, please, I don't think I can continue on with…with all this, convincingly, knowing that Allen is innocent."

"I would tell you that that is not an option anymore, Agent. You gave me your word when you signed onto this. And besides, it's neither here nor there, anyway—we already have all the information we need, thanks to you." Iris felt the bile rise in her throat at that, at the knowledge that she would be instrumental in Barry's downfall, whether or not she wanted to be anymore or not. Because they were going to catch him because of _her_. "Now it's just a matter of setting the trap."

"Then why make me stay?" Iris said desperately, feeling as though she was drowning. "Why make me keep up the act, when you already have what you need?"

"Because we can't have him getting suspicious, now can we? And I think we both know that it's not an act anymore, Agent West. That it hasn't been for a while. Did you really think I wouldn't notice? You're lucky I let you get away with it, for so long. Frankly, I don't give a damn about your love life. You will carry out this mission, or else both of you will face the consequences, and that is final."

 **xXx**

"Damn, Iris," Felicity whistled, sounding impressed. She had just walked in to catch the tail end of a conversation Iris had been having with Barry, telling him good luck and to be safe, as he was going out to chase down another meta-human. "Forget journalism or secret agent work—you should've been an actress. Now _that_ was convincing."

"What?" Iris blinked, turning to her, having just noticed that she wasn't alone in the room. _Fuck_ , she realized, gathering her bearings. She was supposed to be _acting_. She laughed uncomfortably, avoiding meeting Felicity's eyes. "Oh, that. That was nothing."

"No, really," Felicity insisted, patting her shoulder approvingly. "You almost had _me_ believing you were in love with the guy."

"Yeah, well," she sighed, and decided that now was as good a time as any. She needed her help anyway—she was going to have to come clean sooner or later.

"Oh my God," Felicity marveled at her, eyes wide with shock and pity as understanding dawned. "Oh my God, Iris. You—don't tell me…you are, aren't you? You really _are_ in love with him."

Iris didn't make any move to confirm it, but she didn't deny it, either, just kept her gaze resolutely fixed on the ground, and that was all the confirmation Felicity needed.

"Well, shit," Felicity finally managed, breaking the tense silence that had settled between them. "That's…that certainly makes things complicated."

"Yeah," Iris agreed, feeling miserable. "I fucking know."

"Iris…that's gotta be…oh, man, I'm just really sorry, you know? Really, really sorry. I mean, I can't even imagine what—"

"Felicity," Iris said wearily, shutting her up, "that's really not helping, right now."

"Right," Felicity nodded apologetically, a blush creeping up her neck. "Sorry. So…what are you going to do? With the mission, and all."

"Waller plans on capturing Barry, wants him stopped and trapped and I'm pretty sure she's planning on using him, although I don't know what for, exactly, other than that it can't be pleasant. I also know she'll likely make it so that I can't get to him, can't stop it from happening or save him when it does, and that's where you and Laurel come in. Felicity, please…I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate, I would never ask you to put yourself in this position, but—just imagine if it were Laurel. Imagine if Waller was going to take one of you, and do God knows what to you, maybe even kill you, and I just—I love him, Felicity, you get that, right?" Iris let out a shaky breath and took one of Felicity's hands in hers, squeezing it tight to convey her desperation. "I can't let this happen, and—I need your help. You and Laurel, I—I need my _friends_."

She could've kissed Felicity when her friend only nodded, not missing a beat, her eyes soft with understanding. "Of course, I understand. And I'll call Laurel, tell her to get her butt over here. I know she will too. Now, what exactly is it that you need us to do?"

 **xXx**

"Iris, honey, where are you?"

"I'm at Jitters. I'm waiting to meet with a friend, but—well, he's late, as usual. Why?" she asked, suddenly apprehensive. She had asked Barry to meet her here at Jitters, a bundle of nerves and drowning in self-loathing but with her mind set on telling him everything, about her work at ARGUS and the mission and Waller's plan—anything to convince him to be careful. It didn't matter if he'd hate her after finding out, she told herself with her heart in her throat, (even though it did, of course it did, to her at least), so long as it meant it would keep him safe. But he hadn't shown up, and while he usually ran late to things, he wasn't usually late when it came to _her_ , and she'd already begun to get worried. "What is it, daddy?"

Her dad sighed, and she could tell by his tone that it wasn't good news. She could almost picture him rubbing a hand down his face, could imagine that familiar look of distress, like the one he'd get when Iris was younger and he'd come home with his head hung and his shoulders hunched as though carrying some unseen weight because something had gone wrong with a case at work. "It's…it's Barry Allen. He's gone missing. Have you by any chance heard from him recently?"

"No, I— _missing_?" She felt her stomach drop as that sunk in, and her blood ran cold as the realization dawned on her, like her worst fears were being confirmed. _No_ , she thought, dread curdling in her stomach, _no, this wasn't supposed to happen. Not yet. It's too early, I was supposed to be able to meet with him, I was supposed to be able to_ save _him—_

"We think he might have been abducted," her father's voice cut through her thoughts, strained and heavy with stress, with _worry_ , and she was unexpectedly jarred into remembering that her dad genuinely cared about Barry, too. She'd forgotten that he'd known him before her, that he'd worked with him not only at the CCPD but also as the Flash, even though he thought she was still in the dark about that part of it. "The circumstances suggest…well, I can't go into detail, but there are things about Barry…there are reasons people might be out to hurt him. He has—he has a lot of enemies, Iris."

 _I know,_ she thought, slightly hysterically, her breath coming out in short little gasps. _I fucking know, I work for one of them. Or worked, at least._

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," her dad said, and she wondered if he could tell how close she was to the edge, to losing herself in panic. "I know that you two—well. You never said you were seeing each other, but you weren't exactly subtle. I know how you feel about him. How he feels about you. After he met you, I swear, it was like he'd show up to work every day looking like he had the sun in his hands. I just want you to know that we're doing everything in our power to get him back, I promise. But things are crazy here right now—I might not be around for a while. I just didn't want you to worry too much."

 _Not worry?_ As if that was even an option, anymore. No, it wasn't just worry—it was panic. Utterly consuming panic, heavy thickening dread settling in her bones. She sucked in a deep breath, thoughts firing this way and that, trying to think of what her next move should be, because whatever else she did, she had to get to Barry, and soon. It was hard to look even one step ahead when her vision was tunneling and blurry as she blinked back tears and she very nearly couldn't breathe.

"Dad, I'm going to stay at Linda's place, okay?" _Breathe in, breathe out, stay calm, think this through_. "I—I don't want to be alone right now." Technically, it was only half a lie. Because while she didn't want to be alone, Linda's place was far from where she was actually headed, and the person who she wanted to be with now more than anyone wasn't just missing, he'd been taken, and she knew exactly who had taken him and where they'd probably taken him and Waller probably knew that she'd been planning on— _oh, God._

"Of course, I understand. I'll call to check in on you later—I'm sorry I can't be there for you right now, baby."

"It's okay," she assured him, even though it wasn't, not at all, not even a little bit. Nothing about this was okay, and yet the word kept tumbling off her lips, like she was willing it to be true. "It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay. _He's going to be okay_."

"I have to go—" her dad cut off, and she heard voices shouting in the background, the rustling of papers, the scrape of a chair, "—but I'll keep you updated if we hear anything else, or have any breakthroughs, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, dad. Love you," was all she could manage, barely even registering his responding 'love you too,' before tapping the button to end the call with numb fingers. It took effort to find Linda in her contacts list, to press the appropriate buttons and lift the phone to her ear as it rang when her hands were shaking so bad she could barely hold it, and her vision was blurring with tears. Linda picked up on the second ring, her voice clipped.

"What is it, Iris? It must be something, because you wouldn't be calling me outside of work if it wasn't. You never do anymore."

Iris swallowed past the ball of guilt lodged in her throat, hating herself for letting her relationship with Linda, with her best friend, deteriorate because of the secrets in her life, hating herself even more because she knew Linda was right, and on the cusp of not being able to stand herself at all because she was, in fact, calling to ask her for something. God, when had she become such a shitty friend? She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus. _Like ripping off a band-aid, Iris_ , she thought to herself, and plowed on.

"Linda, I need you do to me a favor. Please."

Years of knowing her told Iris that Linda was most definitely rolling her eyes on the other line, or making some sort of angry, disappointed face at the phone. She wouldn't even be surprised if she was being given the finger right now. And fuck, she deserved it.

"Of course. Of course you do." Linda's voice was angry, and then she was silent for a moment. Iris crossed her fingers, not daring to speak. Finally, she heard Linda sigh, and felt the knot in her chest loosen some. "Okay. Alright. Just—what is it?"

"If my dad calls, I need you to tell him I'm there. That I'm staying with you. That's—that's what I told him, anyway," she rushed out. Before, this wouldn't have really been an issue. They covered for each other all the time: in college, at work, in general. But now…Iris cringed, bracing herself for the inevitable. A pause. And then—

"You want me to lie for you?"

"Yes. Please, Lin, I'm begging you."

"Iris…" Linda sighed, weary and dejected. "I will, okay? But you need to tell me why. You need to tell me what's going on with you. And don't give me any bullshit this time, okay? I can tell when you're lying to me. I've always been able to."

Iris took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, running a trembling hand through her hair. She couldn't really see any way around it, and it didn't really matter anymore, anyway. Besides, she owed Linda that much, at least. "Okay. Okay, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don't have much time to explain, so I'm just going to get right to it and—don't hate me, okay? I mean, you should hate me. I've been an awful friend, lately, and I've been lying to you for so long, and I know it's selfish to even ask you that but I just—please, don't. The thing is, all those times you tried to get me to go out with you, all those times I told you I didn't want to, that I was going home, I wasn't. I work for an organization called ARGUS—well, worked, now, I'm sure, considering—whatever. But that's why I've been so secretive lately, so reserved. It's not because I don't want to spend time with you Linda, because you're my best friend, and I do, it's just—I've had this whole other life I couldn't tell you about."

"Are you seriously telling me," Linda said slowly, and the hollowness in her voice was so much worse than the anger Iris had been expecting, "that you're a fucking secret agent, Iris? Because that's what it sounds like you're trying to say."

"I…yeah. I am. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry that I never told you. That I've been lying to you for so long. I just—I couldn't."

"Comes with the job, huh?" Linda let out a bitter little laugh. "You know what the worst part is? You tell me you're a fucking secret agent, and I'm not even surprised, honestly. Isn't that incredible? I'm not even fucking surprised. Agent, really? Wow."

After this was all over, after she saved Barry—and she _would_ save him, she wouldn't allow for anything else—Iris resolved to fix things with Linda. Especially with all of the secrets in her life over the past few months, only added onto the ones she was already keeping, Linda had caught on that she'd been lying to her, and she hadn't been happy about it. Iris hadn't had time to address it, then, but she wished she had now.

Still, it was a mark of just how good a friend Linda was that she despite how angry she must be, she ended the call with a promise to cover for her anyway, sensing that something was wrong and not having the heart to rip into Iris just yet. That would come later, Iris was sure.

The next phone call she made was to Felicity, and she found she couldn't even find it in her to speak for a moment when she heard Felicity's perfectly cheerful, blissfully unaware "Hello?" on the other end. She closed her eyes and tried to muster up the courage to speak, but when she opened her mouth all that came out was a sob that she couldn't hold back any longer. She clapped a hand over mouth to muffle the sound, but Felicity caught it anyway, and even though Iris couldn't see her she could practically hear the wheels turning in her head.

"It's him, isn't it?" Felicity said, without even a hint of the light-heartedness from her greeting just seconds ago. "Waller took Barry? That's why you're—oh, Iris, I'm _so sorry_. I didn't think she would do it this soon."

Iris was grateful beyond words that she didn't have to explain, because it already hurt enough, knowing what was happening, that at this very moment, Barry could be hurt and in pain and feeling so alone and betrayed and all because of her, _oh God_ —

"Is Laurel with you?" she managed to get out as way of confirmation, hating the way her voice shook. She couldn't afford to be weak, and she certainly couldn't afford to be vulnerable. Not now, not when Barry needed her.

"Yeah," Felicity breathed, an edge of panic to her voice that did nothing to ease Iris's own. "Yeah, she's here, should we…?"

"Yes, please, if you're still up for it. It's sooner than I was expecting too, but—the plan still stands, if you guys are still in."

"Of course we are," Felicity scoffed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Iris felt her heart swell at the reassurance. "We'll meet you at Jitters."

 **xXx**

It was easier than it should have been, finding him, and taking out the security that had been set up to guard him, and she told herself with her heart pounding nervously in her chest that it was because of Laurel and Felicity's help. It should've been a good thing, she should've been relieved, and yet a part of her couldn't help the worry churning in her stomach. Because it was almost like it was _too_ easy. Waller never made things easy, and Iris couldn't imagine that she would slack on something like this. She wondered with an uneasy sense of foreboding whether Waller wanted her to find him, expected her to, even. Whether this trap wasn't just for him, but for her, too. She swallowed hard and pushed those thoughts away, because regardless, she had more pressing things to worry about, right now.

The room he was being kept in was freezing—no doubt intentionally—and he was shaking, his lips chapped and turning blue, his face impossibly pale. Her heart broke as she approached him, looking so small and so broken. His back was pressed up against the wall of the cell, his arms tied behind him, and his legs were chained to the floor. One was bent at an odd angle, and clearly broken. Iris didn't doubt that Waller had taken special precautions, that judging by the fact that Barry didn't even look like he was anywhere close to healing, these were special restraints. Restraints designed to stall his hyper-healing, and probably to suppress his powers, too. All possible, of course, because of the information she'd provided them with. Her stomach roiled unpleasantly at the thought.

Worst of all, though, was that when he registered the sound of her footsteps and looked up to see her approaching, he shrunk back, almost like he was trying to make himself smaller. It was clear from the way he was staring at her, tracking her every move, eyes burning with anger and a million _how could you, how could you, how could you's_ hanging in the air between them, that Waller had told him of her involvement in all this. No doubt she'd emphasized how _invaluable_ Iris had been to the mission. The thought made her sick, even more so when she crouched down in front of him, reaching out a hand to examine the cut on his cheek, only for him to flinch away from her touch. He lowered his gaze again, staring hard at the ground, a muscle working in his jaw as he clenched his teeth like he was fighting the urge to speak.

"I know you probably hate me right now," she said, voice breaking, "And you should. What I did—what I did is unforgivable. But I'm not going to waste time explaining myself right now, because it doesn't matter. All that matters is getting you out of here."

He stayed silent, head bowed and gaze fixed on the ground, and in a way that was so much worse than if he'd screamed or yelled or hurled accusations at her. Hell, she _wanted_ him to. The silence was suffocating.

"Please, Barry, you have to trust me," Iris pleaded, hating herself all the more as the words tumbled from her mouth. Trust her? _Trust her?_ What the fuck had she done to earn his trust since she'd met him, since this stupid mission had started? To deserve it? She was the reason he was in this situation in the first place. _You did this_ , she thought, horrified, and even then she plowed on. There was no other way. "I know—I know I don't deserve that from you. I know that you _shouldn't_. But this is the only way I can save you know, and I—I can't watch you die, Barry. I won't let that happen. You have to believe me, please."

He lifted his head, slowly, like even that small movement was painful. His right eye was swollen shut, and her gaze followed an ominous looking trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. She wasn't sure what was worse—the betrayal, the hurt, the pain in his eyes, all reflected back at her, _for her_ , and knowing that she caused all that, or the tiny, almost imperceptible flicker of hope in his expression, the barest acknowledgement that despite everything, despite what she'd done, _he still believed her_. Or, at the very least, he still _wanted_ to believe her.

He didn't speak, but he didn't lower his eyes, either, staring at her as though he was searching for something he was afraid he might not find. Iris's heart sped up in terror as she registered the tell-tale click of heels in the distance, knowing exactly who they belonged to.

"Please," she whispered desperately, knowing she only had moments left to explain, to help him get away and to get away herself. Barry seemed to realize what the distant _click, click, click_ , getting closer with each passing second meant too, because he squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, a tear stealing its way down his cheek. Whether it was from physical pain or because of her, she couldn't tell, and she really didn't want to think about which was worse.

"Please," she whispered, one last time. _Let me fix this. Let me help you. Let me save you._

He didn't say anything, didn't let so much as a sigh pass his lips. But slowly and surely, he opened his eyes.

And then he nodded.

 **xXx**

 **Notes:**

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 _(So this was originally supposed to be from multiple POVs, not just Iris's, and I was going to focus on Barry, Cisco, and Caitlin's dynamic and their shenanigans at STAR Labs, as well as a bigger focus on Iris and Linda's friendship and then Laurel and Felicity too, but obviously didn't get a chance to do that, and the overall relationship development is sort of non-existent, as I'm sure you could tell. But because this was so rushed, I was considering maybe writing some missing scenes or doing a sequel or something at some point in the future, but that depends on a lot of different factors, so we'll see.)_

 _Anyway, this is the longest thing I've written so far (it's not even that long but w/e) and I'm really not used to it and also really nervous about posting it so pleaaase let me know what you thought; regardless of whether you liked it or hated it (be honest, I can take it), any feedback would be much appreciated!_


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